[18:35:06] <%Dan_Maku> Warriors do that thing where you dress as a flatchested bunny, right [18:36:45] <HalaxisWasPhone> Dan yeah. [18:36:47] <HalaxisWasPhone> Sure [18:37:03] <HalaxisWasPhone> Kazuki in a bunny outfit when? [18:38:28] <%Dan_Maku> When someone writes me some Kazuko [18:41:26] <HalaxisWasPhone> Dan. There once was a fairy named Kazuko. She was swept off her feet by the tall and handsome dragon gatekeeper of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Then they fucked happily ever after. [18:41:32] <HalaxisWasPhone> The end [18:41:39] <Rally> 10/10 [18:41:47] <Rally> I will never read a better story in all my life [18:41:59] <%Dan_Maku> APPLY YOURSELF

Yukari motions towards the meat bun on the table. I glance up at Yukari for a second, but her face is plastered with a calm smile; I can't get a read on what she's thinking. If she's putting in effort to hide her intentions, I can't help but feel reluctant accepting this "gift".

I take the meat bun in my hands. The weight seems fine, and upon inspection I can see nothing that indicates this bun is anything but ordinary.

"C'mon Ran, hurry up and eat it! The whole thing." That frozen smile tells me there's no way I'm getting out of this, so I buckle to her whims and take a bite.

Mmm. Not bad. Actually, this is pretty good. I take a few more bites.

Hmm? Oh. Oh no. Why is my mouth suddenly on fire? Oh no.

I stop chewing and clasp my free hand over my mouth. I glare at Yukari through tear-filled eyes. From behind her back, she produces a glass of water. I reach out to take it, but she pulls it away, pointing at the half-finished bun in my hand.

Something was near. He couldn't see what it was yet. Leaves didn't rustle more than usually and there were no unexpected movements in the corner of his eyes, but there was a faint hint of unmistakable awareness in the air. He didn't know what the other being was, but it didn't matter. No matter the size of an interloper, the intent of a forest creature walking by or the amount of danger that anything could pose, something was there, so his body changed accordingly.

There were no different levels of change. Over the course of the years, the... beast he transformed into looked more and more threatening, gaining traits from many a predator who had stumbled upon him, as was his nature. While his entire body rapidly grew to a monstrous size, razor sharp teeth sprang from his widening maw and two imposing tusks started to form at the sides. His skin tightened, so that rippling muscles revealed itself to any who looked upon him. Horns sprouted from his forehead, towering above the lower branches of the leaf-roof while claws extended from his forearm, ready to tear apart anything that threatened him.

As the transformation came to its end, he spotted something looking at him a good distance away, nearing his beloved home. The creatures attention was however undoubtedly drawn but the noises his growth made. He straightened his body, making himself as tall as possible, and let out a bestial roar... ____________________________________

He was lost. Hopelessly lost. He shouldn't have gone into the forest, heck, he should not have gone near the forest, but with only two days left to pay the colossal debt, there were only three options left. Pay with his life, give up the farm or pay in rare goods... Youkai... His life was obviously out, and when you only have one option, you have no choice, as his late father used to say.

Of course he ran at the sight of the first youkai he encountered, he was no warrior, he was a goddamn farmer! He ran in

“Reimu~!” The black-white witch calls as she bursts dramatically through the shrine’s wall. The shrine maiden in question simply sighs and sips her tea, starring out the newly formed window. “Wanna play?” The blonde witch asks, ignoring Reimu’s blank stare.

“No,” Responds the shrine maiden, her attention turning back to a book sitting on her kotatsu. “Can you believe what Yukari wants us to do?”

“Huh? What’s she want us to do?” Marisa sits on her broom as it floats around the room.

“She wants us to go back to school.” Reimu sighs, turning the page. “How many times is this now?”

Marisa snags a tangerine from the table as she floats by. “No clue, I stopped keeping count.” She floats by and picks up another one. “Why’d we stop going the first time anyway?”

“Flandre and Patchouli.”

“Oh, right. That was fun.” Marisa winces as she picks up a third tangerine. “Oh, did you hear about Keine’s boyfriend?”

I'd left the Czechs a half mile behind, spraying lead to cover my mad dash through the roadblock. Now I spurred my steed through the ghostly streets of Yekaterinburg, the meager moonlight playing on half-glimpsed street signs and the shadowed bulk of landmark buildings. My horse's sides heaved raggedly but I spared not the whip, knowing it was useless all the while.

I was within sight of the hillside when my steed finally gave up, slowing to a stumbling canter. Yanking my boots from the stirrups I hit the ground running as it collapsed, muzzle wreathed with foam. Up the street I sprinted, my heart thundering madly in my ears as I reached for that house on the hill with every mote of my soul.

They're going to murder the children.

The war, the great nation, the fulcrum of my existence, even the fate of humanity itself hung in the balance. But as I bolted up that street only one mad screaming thought filled every chamber of my being.

They're going to murder the girl.

I saw my goal at last, the harsh dark line of a tall wooden fence cutting across the bright white facade of a large house. There would be sentries, but I had a silencer and a wire, and of course my old friend. As long as I was on time, Dear Iwanaga, tell me there was still -

The first thing everyone notices about her are, of course, the white detached sleeves. Despite all the other frills and the bright red, it's always the detached sleeves that garner the most attention at first. You can't tell at a distance because they're tied to her arms most of the way up, but when you get closer, it's obvious. I've asked her why several times, but she's never really given a satisfactory answer. I think, way back when, it was her way of distinguishing herself from any other miko on the planet, which is dumb, because she's the most unique miko I've ever met, but then again, I've only met one other one. Anyway...

Usually its the red that focuses your attention on her dress next. She's actually got several different lengths, but the one most people see - and the one I call her "work dress" - is about knee length. The hem of the skirt is frilled with white, and just above the hemline there's a white dashed line pattern that goes all the way around. It's a perfect fit on her, which is more than a lot of people can say about their own clothes, especially my too-big and too-small skirts that I refuse to toss in the trash. Other than the frills, though, it's simple, just like her. Her small size one waist holds the thing up, with a little matching red button right on the front.

The shirt of her getup is the only thing not exclusively red or white. An orange ascot is tied in the center, wrapping around and underneath a white neckline. The neckline has frills as well, extending downward across the main red part of her shirt, with a red dashed line pattern just on the inside of the white. It's the complete opposite of the skirt, intentionally so, to break up the monotony of red-white-red-white. A simple thing to be sure, again, just like her. Underneath that shirt somewhere is a pair of- well, she'd say she's got nothing impressive. It's why she doesn't care when people stare at her chest. There is some truth there; after all, she doesn't eat a lot, and when you don't eat, you don't gain weight, and it doesn't do good for your figure when you don't eat.

You, who loves music but doesn't feel reciprocated. You, who lacks musical knowledge. You, who feels despised by the muses. You, who has dropped the healthy habit of taking baths because you don't dare to sing even under your own shower. You, who, when you join your voice to the fervent masses to sing your nathional anthem, is reprimanded by a hostile crowd that shouts 'you goddamned traitor!' at you. You, who believes music is a complex art only within reach of a few fortunate people. Yes, you, don't play coy! You, my dear reader, you can also succeed in the world of music!

Does it surprise you? Don't be surprised too much, because I, the great, magnanimous and talented kirin musician, Rin Satsuki, am going to give you the answers to all your musical concerns! I will teach you to know and master in a few lessons the most intimate secrets of music: how to compose songs; how to play instruments; how to write letters until the letters make words, and the words make musical poems - in other words, lyrics -, and how to read sheet musics in a steady rhythm, and not only steady, but other more difficult rhythms like tango, rock, or symphony.

The success of my method is tried and tested. Isamu Nakano was a sickly and complexed Russian kappa who lost his hand in an unfortunate accident involving cucumber missiles, didn't feel confident enough to confess his love to his beautiful tengu neighbor. After following my advices, he decided to sing her a serenade. His success was so fulminant, she asked for his hand on the spot. The other hand.

My advices can also help you. You just need to believe. And to believe, you just need conviction. And to have conviction, you just need to be convinced. And to be convinced, you just need to believe!

So, coat yourself with the conviction that you will learn music, and shielded on it, repeat e

The shuttle launches, exploding, coughing, sputtering off into the confines of space. One Lunarian decided to rebel. Her punishment is eternal imprisonment in space beyond. Locked in a clean white pod, the traitor is sent into the darkness not yet ventured. She is doomed. Reisen Udongein Inaba is doomed. Fare thee well, lone bunny. Brave bunny. Stupid bunny. The moon shall remember thee not. All records are destroyed, all relations are severed, an unspoken (but certainly enforced) decree of not mentioning “her” name has been put into action. The benevolent, malicious, all-powerful, loving, sadistic queens have put this unwritten law into action. And unlike many disgruntled parents of stupidly curious children, it is absolute because they said so.

I was still tied to the tree at that time, drifting in and out of consciousness. It was a tall, thick tree. I was naked, hugging this tree on my knees, with a series of ropes binding me there. My eyes were covered by a blindfold, and I could barely move my head. My neck was very stiff from holding it one position for so long. Hell, I was stiff everywhere – I had been stuck there since noon.

Night had fallen long ago. I could tell it was night because there was little light showing through the blindfold.

For hours, I had been waiting there for my death. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to die – maybe some youkai would find and eat me soon. Or maybe I would stand there until I died from sheer exhaustion. Either way, I had to wait. And wait I did.

Before long, I fell into sleep again.

~ ~ ~

I was awoken by my blindfold being roughly ripped off of my face. There was nothing to see, however. It was pitch-black. For a moment, I believed I had imagined the removal of the blindfold.

>>1720To be honest, it would have been fun to write! Well, some of it. (Mainly just certain scenes with Rumia.) But yeah, a lot of it would have been beyond my abilities. Maybe "one day" I'll be able to write a true tale of despair.

For some death in obscurity, unmarked but for the illusory earth. For some death for knowledge, to sate man’s eternal thirst. For some death in damnation, to pay the cost of an existence ill-gotten. For some life eternal, The cruellest of the Fates.

(Inspired by, dedicated and all the thanks goes out to yours truly, Takuyarawr)

Some time, after a battle, Ran and Chen found that Yukari's health had declined and that she fell ill. Despite how weak she was becoming, she tried not to pay any attention to it and was enjoying her life. As her illness worsened, doctors treated her with the best treatment they could offer but, however, it did more damage to her body than it did repair. Knowing fate was being merciful and hostile to her, she didn't know how to break the news to Ran and Chen, so she told Reimu and asked for her to give them her parasol.

When Reimu broke the news to the shikigami, they were in utter disbelief and were immediately grief-stricken. "I'm sorry, Ran, Chen, she didn't know she could tell you herself, so she told me to tell you and she wanted you to have this." Reimu said, handing them the pink lace parasol Yukari loved so dearly. A few days later, Yukari fell into a coma and died in her sleep, from the last of the treatment that she wasn't strong enough to survive.

Her funeral service was long and full of tears from those that loved her. Even Yuyuko, as gluttonous as she was, didn't think to eat all the food. Everyone was dressed in black and/or purple. Reimu closed down her shrine for a month, grieving and out of respect for her deceased yokai friend.

Grief-stricken, Ran was trying to hold things together and often took to caring for the violet garden that Yukari left behind but found her health, too, had declined. Chen was hit the hardest and spent half of the day at Yukari's grave, wishing for her to come back.

However, Ran had the most of her problems, other than her mistress's untimely demise. She found her declining health had proved she was ill with a terminal illness that was incurable. She knew she couldn't ignore it but couldn't tell Chen. All through the summer, she hid her illness and, in the fall, after becoming so frail and thin, she went to a doctor to see how far it progressed. However, the diagnosis wasn't good and that the illness had spread rather quickly through her body.

It would be incorrect to say that it was like any other day in Hakugyokurou, but until that moment, it would have also been incorrect to say that it was a unique day. That day marked a changing of the guard; after many years of loyal service, old Aoi had finally gone to join Tetsuo in the flocks of souls resting within her domain.

Just like every other time, the princess had already had her friend Yukari contact Aoi’s son from the minute her retainer had sagely noted the imminence of her passing. While the princess had felt a little sad, knowing she’d miss the little things that distinguished Aoi from all the other Konpakus before her – her unique habit of smoking flower pollens, her tendency to default to a throaty chuckle to fill silences in conversation, her drive to decorate every panel in the mansion with a unique painting, her treatment of the Hakurouken as a reluctant burden and symbol of position rather than a treasured family weapon – she had also felt a little excited, knowing that she’d get to learn all the inner quirks and idiosyncrasies of a new servant. And since he had already married, that meant the house would be lively once again; while it had been comfortably tranquil with just her and Aoi, after Tetsuo had passed away, she had been ready for a change of pace.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known anything about him. After all, she had been Aoi’s midwife, and she had watched the couple raise their son into his teenage years, even helped them. But just like every other Konpaku born and raised in Hakugyokurou, he had returned to Gensokyo as soon as he had come of age, before his own service would be required.

What would he be like? There was no question that would take after his mother to some degree, as the half-phantom bloodline always ran true. Of course he would have white hair – unless he chose to dye it like Sancha had – and be accompanied by a phantom “half” in the form of a misty white wisp. But beyond those few guarantees, what would his personality be like? Would he take after his mother, staying up for days on

When Yukari came to take Noa back to her village to be buried, Youki asked the princess if he and his newborn daughter could go with her. It was absolutely unheard of for a Konpaku to abandon their charge, but there were extenuating circumstances, after all.

Deep inside, she could not bring herself to deny him his mourning in private. Not when she was at fault for his grief.

She had thought a single day of waiting between servants was uncomfortable; but after ten, and then a hundred, she had revised her opinion of solitude.

It was not merely uncomfortable. It was torturous.

She tried to cook meals for herself to pass the time. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how. After all, not every Konpaku arrived in her domain as an expert in every single field needed to fulfill their position as her servant. And while Yukari could always bring in tutors for things like carpentry or gardening, the one skill that the princess would have to teach herself would be cooking, as only she truly knew her own tastes in cuisine.

But without anyone to share the meal with, the food might as well have been ash. Her appetite shriveled to nothingness.

Could she have asked Yukari to keep her company? She could have, and knowing her friend she would have caved to the request. But doing so would mean asking favors But she grit her teeth and suffered through it, staring out at the endless fields of cherry blossoms that without a companion to appreciate them with seemed dull and lifeless.

Eventually, she gave up on the gardens altogether. She attempted to immerse herself in the works of former servants: paintings, sketches, ceramics, poetry, stories. But walking through the mansion only reminded her how empty it was, of the absence of people who had made each and every brushstroke whether on canvas, porcelain, or parchment, and the pain, the crushing loneliness, was simply more than she could willingly bear.

The Hakurei Shrine doesn't get very many visitors. The stairs are long and steep, almost half a day's walk from the village. Of course, most people can fly. Strange then, how he, a normal human, regularly made the trip.

The sun was nearing its apex when he arrived at the shrine. He shivered at the lingering cold. Winter, it seemed, had not yet released the mountains from her icy grasp. Here, snow had not yet given way to flowers.

But that was unimportant. He wasn't here to complain about one of the bizarre weather patterns the Hakurei Maiden solved roughly once per year. No, he had come to see a girl.

Trudging through ankle-high snow, he deposited a few coins in the donation box.

"Weren't you just here two days ago?"

Noticing a bit of red poking out of the snow, he went over. "Good afternoon, Miss Hakurei. I'm here to visit-er, what are you doing?"

Reimu Hakurei, almost completely submerged in snow, replied, "Enjoying the last bit of winter. I had planned to make a snow angel, but the snow is really soft and comfy. I haven't managed to motivate myself into moving."